Some time after Tabitha departed, the guitarist is still in this coffe shop, slowly enjoying her vanilla mocha cappucino and reading from a newspaper, it might be the Times. Her guitar case is propped against the table, the backpack near her feet. Today it's dark jeans, two inch heeled boots, and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt for Jane's clothing, with temperatures being above seventy degrees on Fahrenheit's scale. A stack of flyers rests on the table, pushed aside to allow spreading the paper out as she reads it.

Going incognito, Elle's got some nice shades on and her blonde hair tucked back underneath a baseball cap. Not really her style, but when you're trying to lay low, necessary. She pushes open the door to the coffee shop in search of caffeine. A side glance is given to the guitar case, then Jane, then the flyers in that order, before she pushes forward to the bar itself. "I'll have some chai. Vanilla, if you have it. Organic, if you have that. Thanks."

The flyers have her phone number on them, it seems, along with some graphic design about seeking other musicians. A bass player, drummer, keyboardist, and possibly brass like saxophone or flute. There's some mention of her classic rock influences as well. Jane, while Elle glances her way, doesn't seem to notice the incognito woman. Her eyes are on the paper, reading a section on the arts and music. Fingers tap a spot, and she reaches for the pack to pull out a pen and circle something.

The chai isn't long in coming. Elle slides the payment across the counter and takes the to-go cup, turning back to the door and heading for it. She's almost out again, really, when she pauses and decides to say something to Jane. "So. You look about ten times better than when I last saw you… you were looking a little crack-whorish around the eyes."

Being spoken to draws her attention, she looks up from the paper to check out the voice's source. Jane takes a moment to look Elle over and think before recognition dawns, during which time the expression is displeasure, then it fades to somber acknowledgment. "Yeah," she answers, "I felt it then too. It was just a day or so after going through the wringer. Wish I could disagree, but it's true." Her hand gestures toward an empty seat, invitingly.

"I can't stay," is Elle's response to the non-verbal invitation to sit. "I've got errands to run and all that. Trying to form an unholy alliance of superheroes is hard." Why yes, she did just say that. "Who'd've thunk it, huh? You look… uh… busy. With things. What are you doing?"

Her attention was had before, when the mention of how she looked so soon after cold turkey was made, and now it's doubly had. Jane attempts eye contact then, trying to gauge Elle's seriousness, while she replies tentatively "Reading about music in the paper, later passing out flyers…" She trails off, her head tilts, and she asks in a lowered voice calculated only to be heard by the two of them "What sort of alliance are we talking about? If you need a real screamer, I might have a trick or two to lend. But…" the guitarist pauses "if it involves breaking someone of out semi-jail, might need to be someone else's turn. Price is kinda high. Tends to make a girl look crackwhorish."

Elle does Jane the favor of raising her sunglasses so her eyes are visible when she stares back. "There's a murderer out there looking to kill everyone special and take their abilities for his own. Not only that, but apparently there are some apocalypsi coming our way. Like a bunch. So, naturally, I figured it'd be easier to stop them from happening if we … you know… logically… worked together. Peter and I are going to talk to someone. We'll know more afterwards. Bonus score? No stupid tights." Then: "Screamer, eh? I pegged you more for a moaner."

The eyes widen a bit further, and her fingers grip the table, knuckles whitening a bit. Jane draws in a deep breath and slowly lets it out. "Serial… killer, after 'talented' people, which means just by drawing breath I'm a target?" The eyes close, when they reopen there's fear in them, but also something of practicalty. "I'm all for getting him before he gets me. To hell with waiting around and being scared." A pause is taken, to steady herself, and to lighten the mood she answers other comments. "I'll never tell," she replies in a purr. "But my scream makes things break, and I can get around in the dark without bumping into things."

"Give me your cell number? I don't think I have it," Elle says, fishing out her cell phone and handing it over to Jane. "I'll let you know more once Peter and I have that talk. We may just know the shape of things to come by then."

"283-2260," she answers, taking the phone and programming the number into it, with the other hand passing hers across to be similarly updated. "Peter and Nathan both have it as well." Jane studies the woman for a moment, once the digits are loaded in, and asks "What d'you bring into the mix, Elle? I wasn't sure what you meant by special abilities that day in Starbucks. This.. confirms it."

"Let's just say… I can power a city block and I wouldn't break a sweat," Elle says nonchalantly, taking her phone back and putting it away before taking Jane's and entering in her own number: 283-3553. "I'll give you a call once I know more. But I really gotta keep moving. And you really ought to think about doing the same thing yourself." Handing the phone back, she says, "Hasta la vista, baby."